A Warrior's Weakness
by Ranonymous
Summary: Arranged marriage was something that happened to the Aesir everyday, but somehow, Thor was completely thrown by it when it became his turn. Odin's arrangement of his son and a noble Vanr seer could be the only thing standing between him and his throne, if only he could push through his pride to see it. Thor/OC


**This is my first attempt at a Thor/OC, so hopefully, I won't disappoint. Please, please, please, review and let me know what you think! It's super encouraging, plus I take requests! **

* * *

><p>It was well known to all in Asgard that Queen Frigga was not one of their own. It had taken them an awfully long time, eight centuries, in fact, to accept her fully as their devoted queen. Her powers and abilities were… frightening to her people in Asgard. The magic she had at her command was unlike any they had been accustomed to since the beginning of their existence in the universe, and, since Asgardians were extremely stubborn, they hadn't taken too kindly to someone from her realm of Vanaheim that wielded it so freely wedding their beloved Borson Prince.<p>

But this day, the day that she had clung to for so many centuries as her sons grew, her long suffering would be avenged.

"Do try not to look so forlorn, Thor," She heard Loki, her second born, call to his sulking Prince of a brother and then toss him a doubtably genuine look of consolation. Thor cast him a sideways glance, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I am not forlorn, Loki." Thor's gravel voice held a tone that sent a clear message that he did not want to discuss his current situation at the present. "I am simply thinking."

Loki had obviously not picked up his nonverbal cue, or, more likely, did not care.

"Oh my," A slight look of shock sprang up on Loki's face, "We are living dangerously, I see."

Frigga listened to her sons' banter as they made their way to the Bifrost, their horses slowly clopping down the Rainbow Bridge that Asgard was so famous for. The memory of her first time on the bridge brushed her mind as she marveled at its Technicolor beauty—flashes of lights of colors that she had never even know existed danced below the hooves of her grey mare.

"Loki, let your brother's nerves rest. He does not need added stress." She said, looking back to one son then the other. A grumbled 'Yes, Mother.' hit her ears as she again looked forward to their destination. The sound of quickening hooves came from her right as Thor sped up to travel with her.

"I am not nervous, Mother." His thumb absentmindedly circled on his leather reigns as he set his jaw and gazed toward the Bifrost, "A warrior is never nervous."

_Gods_, how he reminded her so much of Odin as a young Aesir. She learned to read her son as she had learned to read her husband. His usually jovial demeanor came with his assured victories and known endings, but when the battle looked too grim for victory or he was completely unsure of an outcome, his fear would take the form of childish outbursts and arrogant displays of great power.

She smiled at her eldest, reaching over to cover his hand with hers.

"Thor, experiencing nervousness does not prove a warrior, it only proves that you are not foolish. The mark of a great warrior is one that is able to use his anxiety to his advantage."

The man let out a slight smile.

"Perhaps, Mother, we shall leave the talk of war between Father and myself."

Frigga's smile held as her hand travelled to his face, running her palm against his bearded cheek, to have it brought to his lips by his own hand and graced with a small kiss before returning to her lap.

"Very well."

The sounds of Loki's steed trotting up to them came quickly, ending the moment.

"I suggest we quicken the pace of this little caravan if we wish to make it to the Bifrost by the end of this century."

Thor peered over to his brother, a confident grin falling across his lips, "Care for a race, brother?"

Loki matched his expression before furrowing his brow in a playfully serious look, "If a loss is what you desire, so be it then."

A booming laugh emanated from Thor's throat, his current anxiety temporarily forgotten. "I would not be so sure of myself, if I were seated on a feeble, old mare such as yours."

Frigga cleared her throat loudly, gaining the attention of her sons, a defiant smile pulling on her lips, "There is much to be said about old mares, Thor."

Without another word, the Queen swiftly hiked her horse, initiating a jolt of energy from it and speeding away, leaving her sons to attempt to catch up.

* * *

><p>"I see where I have gained my sense of fairness." Loki called to his mother, dismounting his mare and swinging his newly freed pack over his shoulder before offering her his hand in aid of her own dismounting. Frigga took the man's hand, gently dropping her feet to the ground.<p>

"When the rules are not clearly outlined, how can one be accused of being unfair?"

He watched as his mother entered the Bifrost, feeling his brother clapping his large hand on Loki's shoulder.

"And when I say such things, people become angry."

Thor threw him a knowing look, "To be fair, you are not the Queen of Asgard."

Loki nodded slightly, "I see your point." Slowly, the pair walked to the gate, leaving behind their beasts.

"You do, however, look striking as a woman."

The younger prince let out a small smile at his brother, "That was one time."

Another loud laugh rang from Thor as he crossed the threshold into the gate.

" The expression upon Fandral's face is something I will never forget if I live to be ten millennia old."

Loki pursed his lips, giving a small shake of his head.

"Let us pray that this realm is not doomed to suffer you that long."

Heimdall stood faithfully at his post, his golden sword standing at attention, ready to be put to use at a moment's notice. Bowing slightly, he greeted the Queen before turning his gaze to the Bifrost portal.

"It is beautiful in Vanaheim this day, Your Highness. You have chosen an exceptionally good day for travel."

Before Frigga could reply, Thor's voice called from behind them. "Valhalla smiles upon us, then."

Frigga was very impressed with the way Thor was handling himself in his…situation. Centuries before, he would have been skulking behind, brooding and complaining at every opportunity, but this day, he was a man. Perhaps he was more ready for the throne than she had thought. She would never go against Odin's decision once his mind was made up, but when he had told her about Thor's impending coronation, she was more than doubtful. In some ways, he was still but a child. However, she did remember the state of Odin when he first took his father's throne. He claimed that it was Frigga herself that caused him to gain such maturity and she prayed, for Thor's and Asgard's sakes, that he was right.

"Your bride awaits, Prince Thor." Heimdall said, his eyes never leaving the portal as if he was watching her as he spoke. "She _is _beautiful to behold."

Frigga watched Thor shift uncomfortably, trying to ready himself for whatever lay ahead of him. A silent prayer floated from her lips to the gods as the Bifrost sparked open. Hopefully, they would grant them a miracle. _Hopefully._

* * *

><p>From the moment his father had brought up the subject of marriage, a feeling formed in Thor's stomach that would not cease its torment. He felt as though he were standing at the very cusp of a bottomless pit with a sword to his back, pushing him further and further toward the ever-crumbling edge.<p>

For years, he had tried to avoid the feeling by simply forgetting about the duty. He threw himself fiercely into battle, obliterating his enemies and celebrating heavily at their expense and, by the end of the celebrations, he had even fed into his insatiable lusts by dragging more than a few maidens into the throws of passion and wild nights. But now, as he stood on Vanaheim, the birthplace of his mother, he was finally being pushed over the edge of the cliff. Soon, he would be freefalling.

He sucked in a deep breath of air, trying to calm his tossing gut. His eyes broke open as he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder tightly. Emerald eyes met his bright blue ones, trying to offer some reassurance.

"Look at it this way," Loki's voice was low, "Heimdall, who sees every being in the Nine Realms, said she was beautiful. That must account for something."

A small breath of laughter escaped Thor's lips as he nodded to his brother, his own hand finding a place on Loki's shoulder.

"Indeed it does."

He had never met his intended before, as was custom. The match had been made between Ragnvaldr, the head of Vanaheim's army, and Odin himself. Thor was present when the deal was struck, but not his intended. Ragnvaldr seemed very pleased with the prospect of having Thor wed his daughter, and Odin likewise, but Thor sat at the end of the table during the agreements, silent as a stone. He did not even learn her name.

"This countryside is very scenic." Loki remarked, breaking the silence the trio had had going for the last half-hour. Thor looked to his mother, who had not stopped smiling since their landing. The small wrinkles beside her eyes that only appeared whenever he or Loki made her laugh were now fully visible. It had been years since she had been given the opportunity to visit Vanaheim and it showed. Every sight, every sound, the feeling of wind raking through the leaves, she was relishing it all. Maybe he would accompany her back more often.

Their destination sat atop a steep hill, looking down over a large city that sat in a valley. The home was large, but not as large as Thor was accustomed to. As soon as he stepped into the building, a sense of entrapment began to creep up his spine. He was first greeted by Ragnvaldr with a tight grasp of forearms and then by his wife, Eira, with a bow which he roughly returned. He examined the couple, taking in their shared appearances. Ragnvaldr was a tall, thick man, although, not as tall and thick as the Prince of Asgard. Places on skin were marred from centuries of battle, giving him an even gruffer air, but his wife was a different creature altogether. Her snowy pale skin contrasted her husband's sun-toughed features starkly. His narrowing dark eyes seemed to try to blaze through his guests trying to discern their intentions, but Eira's blue ones sparkled with clarity, as if she had already known them for two lifetimes. Her grace seemed almost magical as she welcomed the Asgardian royalty, curtsying deeply and swiftly, but returning to her original position just as quickly. She was simply stunning to Thor and, he'd decided, if his intended was just a portion of her beauty, he would not be disappointed.

They exchanged pleasantries, talks of wars and government, which seemed to last far longer than they actually did. Finally, Eira lightly clutched her husband's arm.

"Our guests have travelled so far, Ragnvaldr."

Thor listened to the sentence. It was simply an innocent statement, but somehow, in some way, it was also a command. Would his future wife treat him in the same way, disrespecting him so much as to order him about?

"Quite, right," Ragnvaldr's voice was deep and rough, holding the timbre of a growling bilgesnipe. "You will be shown to your rooms."

With a snap of his fingers, servants appeared out of thin air, jarring the Prince. His body involuntarily went rigid as a magically induced man stood in front of him, his head bowed slightly.

"Allow me, sire." The servant's voice was low as he turned and walked down a corridor, intending for Thor to follow him. Magic was something he was sure he'd never get used to. Even when Loki and Frigga practiced it so freely, it still gave him cause for pause each time he was in its presence.

The servant made so many turns, that Thor was almost beginning to think he would never reach his room. Finally, after passing dozens of doors, the servant stopped in front of one, turning the doorknob and pushing it open for the Prince. Thor nodded in thanks just before the servant disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

* * *

><p>Closing the door, he turned to face his room. Blues and greens adorned the oak furniture. His bed was shorter than his at the Palace of Asgard, so he was very much certain that his feet would hang off of the end. A tall closet stood in the far corner, already containing his clothing that palace servants had brought ahead of them. Tapestries with the symbols of Vanaheim fell from ceiling to floor, brushing the cool stone with licks of light blues. It was large, but again, not as large as his preference. With a sigh, he stretched, nearly brushing the ceiling with his fingertips at his full height and causing him to shrink back quickly, as if it had burned his flesh. Suddenly, the room felt very small. His head flew to his face, his thumb and first finger squeezing the bridge of his nose.<p>

His eyes caught his reflection in a full-length mirror that stood across the room from him. His dirty blonde hair hung thick around his head, brushing his back down to his shoulder blades. He had it tied in the back, pulling the front strands away from his face so they would not be a nuisance in the heat of battle—though he did not anticipate any battles this day. The deep crimson cloak that hung around his shoulders, he'd flung onto his bed, leaving only him in his red and grey tunic. The cloth clung tightly to his body, making no attempt at masking his bulking physique. Finally, his eyes fell to Mjolnir that hung at his side as a faithful servant would its master. Again, even though he could not see any battle in his foreseeable future, the hammer gave him a small comfort, like a toy to a child.

The Vanr sun beamed brightly through his balcony window, calling him to gaze at the beautiful things it illuminated. He could do nothing be fall to its whims. Vanaheim _was_ indeed as splendorous as he had heard. Majestic mountains boldly stood on the horizon, daring him to regard their jagged faces. Trees covered the hillside of the mansion, causing him to stare in wonder. They, of course had trees in Asgard, but the ones of Vanaheim were far more numerous and stretched higher. Scanning the tree line, he watched small animals run in and out of the forest, as if to play a game with each other. Maybe if he played their game, he would not be as bored as he was. Standing still was definitely not in his nature and his fingers were itching for excitement, which he knew would not come. Running his hand through his hair, he rested it on the back of his neck before lowering his head to rest on the balcony railing. A deep sigh rumbled through his chest as he tried to accept his surroundings, willing himself to stay sane throughout his time in Vanaheim.

The sudden noise of hoof beats pricked his ears, causing him to lift his head and scan the tree line once more. Moments later, a horse darted from the trees, the rider encouraging it along with shouts.

"Ya!" the rider's voice hit Thor's ears, leaving a mark that was distinctly feminine. He watched as the beast slowed approaching the home, stopping before reaching the sizeable open stable that stood in back. The rider dismounted under Thor's careful scrutiny. He guessed it was a woman, from the small silhouette, and was confirmed as she lifted her hood.

A quick breath drew itself in surprise as he looked to her as she lifted bridle from the horse's face. Long, chestnut hair framed her young face as it rolled from her shoulders, down past her breasts. He was not close enough to make out any real, discerning facial features, but he could tell she was a thing of beauty. Her slender hands pulled at the saddle she had, moments before, loosened from her horse, bringing the bulking, leather thing to her feminine frame with an audible grunt. A smirk formed on the Prince's lips as he watched her slowly lug the saddle into the stable and throw it over a stand, letting out another grunt, as if the noise had given her strength.

He watched with peculiarity as she stood off-center from her horse, her lips moving, but Thor not being able to hear what she was actually saying. Suddenly, the beast began trotting into the stable without any guide, whatsoever. She followed it in, emerging moments later and walking intentionally toward the house. Thor followed her footsteps intently, watching her approach a small door at the far end of the home. He saw her hand reach for the doorknob, but stop abruptly, her head snapping up. She knew she was being watched. Her head turned in different directions, her eyes trying to locate the source of her discomfort, before finally landing on Thor's. He drew another quick breath, as her eyes locked with his, a small smile brushing her lips before quickly opened the door and slipped into the house.

His body involuntarily jolted up, ripping him from his balcony and delivering him to his door so quickly, it made him slightly dizzy. Suddenly, his wits returned to him. What was he doing? He had never in all of his years of living, jumped so quickly at a woman. Calming himself, he opened his door slowly and stepped into the hallway, making his strides deliberate as he masked his hurry to find the woman.

* * *

><p>The wing of the home the woman had entered was filled with rooms and with each opened door, he was increasingly becoming more doubtful that he would find her. The only reason he did not abandon his fruitless search was that he had already invested himself too much in it and to stop now would be foolish. Making his way through the house, he pretended that he was simply taking stock of it. Servants never stopped to ask if he needed assistance, they simply bowed and continued with their duties. He pushed open a large door to reveal a grand room, furnished with two long wooden tables running the length and one slightly shorter table measuring the breadth. The same Vanr tapestries covered the walls, long, thick ribbons of light green cloth connecting them to one another.<p>

It was approaching his twentieth minute of looking when he came across a door that sat in a shaded corner of the lavish hall. Carefully, he pushed the door open as he had done every other door he had in every other room he had searched. Slipping his head inside the doorway, he saw a small servant's kitchen with a metal stove burning in the center. His eyes scanned the room, devouring all of the vegetables and fruits that sat on counter tops, waiting to be eaten. Fortunately, his weary eyes did not have to travel far until they rested upon her. She was even more beautiful in closer proximity. The woman was sitting on a wooden table, her bare feet curled over the edge of another table that was parallel. He could finally see her features, high cheekbones, pale pink lips, slender neck that he followed down until he reached her collar bone. Her skin was smooth and white like marble, causing his fingers to itch with long to touch it. A goblet sat in one hand, while a crimson bound book was propped up in the other, her bright green eyes scanning the pages. He watched as he took a deep drink from her cup, seeming to take in all of the contents with a single swig. The rich smell of wine floated to his nose, drawing him closer and making him lean into the door, causing a loud _creak_.

At once the woman jumped up and dropped her book, her mouth still filled with the liquid and her free hand flying up to cover her tight lips.

Thor entered the room quickly, his hands held up as if to presume innocence.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to intrude."

She stood fully in front of him, allowing him to take in all of her appearance. Her light blue dress held her body in the highest regard, showing off her small waist that led to her curving hips. The brown hair that was so casually nestled around her shoulders in the stable was now pulled back, revealing the full cleavage of her breasts.

He watched longer as she swallowed, her face wincing from the volume of liquid she was forced to take down all at once. She waved her hand sympathetically, regaining her composure and placing her other hand on her rapidly rising and falling chest.

"It is quiet alright." She murmured, turning from him and wiping away traces of wine from her lips with her thumb. Thor smiled at her modesty.

"I am Prince Thor of Asgard." The tone of his voice held more arrogance than he had meant, earning a slight smirk from her.

"_You_ are the man who spied on me." Her voice was soft like his mother's, letting him relax a bit more as he sat partly on the table the woman had previously occupied.

"Do you not think it a bit too early to indulge in such finery as wine?" His eyes narrowed at her in curiosity. The woman returned his look, pouring another splash of wine from a carafe into her goblet.

"Your Majesty," her voice was velvet against his ears, "I could die at any moment, be it from horrible accident or blind-sided invasion, and you would deny me the one last simple pleasure of wine?"

A chuckle fell from his lips as he watched her lips caress the golden goblet.

"Well, if our doom is as eminent as you say, then I will have to join you."

Turning to the table one which Thor leaned, the woman retrieved another goblet, pouring from the same carafe with which she filled hers. She was close to him. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could pick her scent from the others in the room. She smelled like forest; pine and wildflowers mixing together to intoxicate him.

"What brings you so far from Asgard, my lord?"

Her soft voice pulled him immediately from his thoughts. Suddenly, he remember his place, his duty.

"I am betrothed," he began, taking a deep drink of the warming liquid, "To the daughter of Ragnvaldr."

He watched her facial expression turn to a look of being impressed. The young woman crossed an arm underneath her breasts, allowing her other elbow to rest upon it.

"And how do you find her?"

Thor let out an audible sigh, causing his companion to raise her eyebrow in curiosity. Looking down at his goblet, he swirled the remaining liquid.

"I have never met her."

"Your excitement is simply contagious, my lord."

He threw her an incredulous look. She did not know his struggle and yet, here she stood, making light of it. Another smirk surface upon her lips.

"I mean no disrespect, sire. But I am certain that Lady Ragnvaldrsdottir holds the same distain as you when it comes to this business."

Thor lifted his head, making eyes contact with the young woman before downing the rest of his drink and smashing the cup on the ground. Another amused look played upon her face as she pulled another goblet from the table.

"Another?"

He nodded, crossing his arms over his large chest.

"Who are you, girl?"

Her shoulders tensed, but almost instantly relaxed as she poured fresh wine into a new cup.

"No one of consequence, my lord."

Thor smiled, taking his fresh cup and emptying the contents into his mouth. This time, instead of smashing the cup on the ground, he placed it firmly on the table beside him and stood. As much as he had wished to stay and continue their fellowship, it was slightly inappropriate for them to chat so casually.

"I shall send praise to your master for your service and your delightful banter."

One final time, the woman smirked, bowing her head slightly.

"Thank you, my lord."

As he reached the door, he faltered slightly, turning around to face her once more.

"What is your name, girl?"

Once more, his breathing stuttered as her emerald eyes connected with his, a light blush brushing against her cheeks.

"Atla, my lord."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! I'd love to here your thoughts and suggestions!<strong>


End file.
